


ad astra per aspera

by emptypalm



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-19
Updated: 2012-04-19
Packaged: 2017-11-03 22:32:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emptypalm/pseuds/emptypalm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duro takes note of one of the villa slaves and finds himself entranced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ad astra per aspera

**Author's Note:**

> I, uh, don't know what I'm doing, to be honest. I may continue this, or a may not. I have a huge boner for canon AUs anyway, and this one isn't that difficult to imagine.

Her eyes, Duro decided. That was what he saw when his own slipped shut, finding solace in sleep only to dream of dark hair and blue eyes. A glimpse of a smile, tentative and shaking around the edges, when gazes met through the sands and to the balcony. It distracted him, brought back to reality with the strike of his brother's sword.  
  
" _Schlag dir die Schlampe aus dem Kopf!_ " Agron snapped.  
  
It was the only time Duro could remember striking his brother in anger, a loud roar and a foot against his chest while striking to send Agron sprawling.  
  
His moment came without warning, standing gilded with gold at one of Batiatus' parties. It was not his first, nor his last, but something was so different. Usually he and Agron passed the time attempting to make each other laugh--a stupid, dangerous game they played that sometimes ended in guards lashing out. Instead, Duro looked for her, hoping to see her weave between the guests like the other villa slaves.  
  
It was not so. Instead, Duro's attention was caught by a sudden movement, watching as she poured from between hanging tapestries with her hair wild and dress clutched to her body. Duro saw no blood or bruise, but the shadow of fingers from fat Romans upon such creamy flesh. It stirred an anger deep inside of him, knowing that those men only saw a slave when he saw _perfection_. She looked as if in a daze, no contact to be made as she walked right past them with shaking limbs.  
  
"Wait," Duro said before he could help himself, startling Agron beside him to a sour glare.  
  
Much to his surprise, she halted. The bare skin of her backside was available to him, but all Duro could see were those eyes. Wet, blank, stinging something within him.  
  
"Do you wish to fuck me, too?" she asked, voice quiet. It was the first time Duro had heard her, taken aback by the tone. Subservient, broken. He splayed his fingers as if to reach out, to brush some of the hair matted to her brow from sweat. Wrists chained in front of him, the most he got was his intention across from how she looked at him. A spark of curiosity, maybe a little more pain. His thumb burned to smooth the crease of her brow.  
  
"No," Duro answered softly, as if the concept was foreign to him. Duro knew the taste of a woman, the feel of her thighs clenched around his head, panted breath between kiss-swollen lips. But this was no woman--an angel, cast from grace with broken wings. "I wish only for words."  
  
Another surprise, eyes widening a fraction. Responses were something Duro drank in as if dying from thirst, from the twitch of her lips to the way she clutched her dress to her chest a little tighter. She was no slave then, but a scarred woman with ghosts behind her eyes that Duro only wanted to soothe.   
  
When she looked away, Duro couldn't help the slump of his shoulders nor the squeeze inside his breast. "You would find that I have none of those to offer," she answered, voice a whisper that would not have been heard had she not have been in front of him. Duro held onto the sight of her trembling lips, the curve of her cheek when a slave he recognized as the _domina_ 's body slave called to her gently.  
  
"Diona, come. I will see you to bath," the body slave said, sparing Duro a passing glance before ushering her closer.  
  
Diona moved with shaking legs, as if confused, looking over her shoulder at Duro with _something_ he couldn't quite place.  
  
"Diona!" he called, louder than intended, drawing a guard's attention with sadistic pleasure.  
  
But it was worth the sword hilt to the stomach, the air removed from his chest and meal threatened as he fell to the ground in pain. Agron and Ithus were dragged down, as well, remaining on feet but hunched over due to their connected chains. It was worth it to see her eyes upon him, shocked and scared but there was that _something_ that Duro wanted to call affection, even if unwarranted.  
  
"You stupid shit!" Agron snapped, bound hands looping under Duro's arm to haul him up forcefully.   
  
"Diona," Duro tried again, finding it sweet on his lips and unable to stop from smiling when he looked at his brother. " _Diona_."  
  
Duro watched as Agron begrudgingly returned the smile, managing to catch one more glimpse of the goddess before she turned corner and was out of sight.

**Author's Note:**

>  _Schlag dir die Schlampe aus dem Kopf!_ = turn eyes from the bitch!


End file.
